Over the Hills and Far Away
by GluttonousAnorexiaNervosa
Summary: The Doctor investigates a signal originating in French-controlled England, and, surprise surprise, finds something unexpected. Man, I suck at summaries. I should never sell used cars.
1. Unexpected Interference

**A/N: I do not own Doctor Who, but believe me, if I did, things would be totally different. And probably ten times worse. But I would be happy.**

_Clunk. Whir, whir. Clunk. Whoosh. Groan._

"Come on, old girl, what is the matter?" the Doctor examined the time rotor critically. He slapped the flat of his hand on the panel in front of him. "Come on!"

"Master—"

"Shut up K-9!"

"Affirmative, Master," the patient metal Scottie lowered his head.

The Doctor stroked the glass lightly with his fingertips, lost in thought. A glance at the coordinates confirmed that he was in fact basically where he was aiming for. Late 1100's. French-controlled England. The disturbance he had picked up on his instruments was still there, but it surely was not the cause of his rocky materialization.

No, wait, there _was _something else. He looked at a chart, tracing a line that was steady and straight until it abruptly went haywire, lurching erratically across the paper before it settled down, but not yet returning to normal. "That's strange. What do you make of this, K-9?" he held the printed paper down to the dog's eye line.

"A massive temporal disturbance on the magnitude of 4.6778 x 10 to the 14239-"

"Yes, yes, I know it was large, but what does it mean?"

K-9 paused as he worked out the calculations. "The transport of a mass of no more than one hundred kilograms through time and space approximately .046 centimeters and 800 years, with a error of + or – 5%…"

The Doctor looked at the dog, thinking. "So, something was just moved across time—"

"From the future, master, it had negative velocity on the y axis--" K-9 corrected.

"Into past, then," the Doctor corrected, not questioning the dog's strange calculations. "And it almost landed in the same position as it started in, just at a different time?"

"Given the movement created by plate tectonics, the mass landed in the same place it started, relative the planet's location in space."

He knitted his eyebrows together. "This mass, it was less than one hundred kilograms… less than 200 pounds, then?"

"Affirmative, Master."

He rocked back, thinking. "Yes, I see. And this is what caused our rough landing, then?"

"Affirmative, as far as I can tell, Master."

Nodding, he stood up. "Well, that is interesting, but that disturbance is passed, and that is not what we are here for. You stay here and watch the TARDIS, I'll go and track this signal we received." He held up a device made entirely out of small lights and wires

"Affirmative."

He locked the door behind him and trudged off, examining the heavily wooded landscape around him.

Timelords have excellent hearing and navigation skills. Unfortunately he was displaying little of either. He was wandering around, lost, when an arrow _thunked_ into the tree, inches above his head. In fact, he felt a lock of his curly hair fall across his stunned face, sheared clean off by the steel point. His bulging eyes caught a man who seemed to materialize out of the undergrowth from nowhere, followed by a second who had another arrow notched in his bow.

Fortunately, along with their unsurpassed hearing and navigational skills, they also are gifted with the ability to talk themselves out of nearly any situation imaginable.

"Oh, hello. I'm the Doctor," he said pleasantly.

The nearer man, taller than his companion, examined the strangely dressed man in front of him. "I do not care who you are," he said, sneering, "you are now the prisoner of my master, Lord Fulbert."

"Oh, is that entirely necessary?" he asked, pained. The two men looked at each other, then as one, they stepped forward and punched the Doctor, one in the face and the other in the gut, knocking him to the ground. A few select blows, and he was unconscious at their feet.

He awoke with a start, mind working feverishly. From the slam of a door behind him, the taste of dirt up his nose and in his mouth, and the way his face and chest ached, he guessed he had been thrown onto the ground. Rolling over and opening his eyes confirmed this, along with some other suspicions he had. He was in a dark, dank place, and shafts of light in the gloom told him that it was a wooden room above ground where he was incarcerated.

However, as his eyes and his mind adjusted, he noticed other things in his prison. Barrels, cages, jars… various rift raft that would be found in a medieval village. A small pile of rags in the corner garnered some interest, but was soon replaced when he noticed a crate for catching fish. "Near the ocean, then," he surmised aloud. A movement at the corner of his eye made him jump to his feet, instantly ready to fight off the large overgrown rats he imagined coming for him. Panic, him? _No, never_…

A strangled cry of pain resolved any fears of rodent attack. It came from the pile of rags, which he noticed, somewhat belatedly, were stained with something dark. Moving aside a bag of maggoty flour, he groaned, his troubles worsened significantly.

Although how much worse, he could not be sure, since K-9 was not there to do the calculations, and he was way too busy to do so himself.

A young woman was sprawled out on the ground, partially hidden from sight. Her jeans and chucks betrayed her early 21st century origins, and the hands clamped around the shaft of an arrow sticking out of her thigh betrayed her injury.

"Well, one mystery solved," he muttered as he stooped to help the stricken time traveler.


	2. Its not what it looks like, I promise

**A/N: I have to admit, I have changed her name about five times now. So if you see a woman's name that doesn't match, no worries, I just missed it when I was editing. Please tell me and I'll fix it.**

&&&  
She regarded him with large, scared eyes. "Who are you?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm the Doctor, now hold still and let me see." He unwound his scarf from his neck and piled it behind her head, making a pillow.

"I've got a blooming arrow sticking out of my leg, what more do you need to see?" she responded, trying to twist away from him. Torrents of fresh blood gushed over her already soaked jeans.

He gently pressed on her lower leg, holding it in place, and pressed his right hand against hers, dispelling her weak attempts at escape. "What's your name?" he asked, trying to sound pleasant despite the situation.

"Alannah," she eventually responded, breathlessly.

"Ah, Alannah… that is a good Irish name." He patted her uninjured leg reassuringly. "Well, Alannah, I am afraid I have to ask you to bear more undue pain. May I borrow your belt?"

She eyed him, worried as she watched him loosen his own. He noticed the look, shaking his head. "Oh, no, it's not like that! No, don't worry…" he pulled his out of the loops of his trousers with a flourish, then deftly wrapped it around her thigh in a homemade tourniquet. "Well, maybe worry a little. You are bleeding badly, and it will only get worse when I remove the arrow." He pulled her belt out and laid it aside, then ripped the leg of her jeans, exposing her bloodied skin. "Thankfully, it did not hit your femoral artery."

"How do you know that it didn't?" she asked, fear spreading into her voice again.

"Well, if it had, simply put… you'd already be dead."

She swallowed. "Oh… how comforting."

"These arrows are usually about, oh, 2 feet long?" He measured it with his hand. "There is about twenty inches showing, meaning about four inches are actually in your leg… this might take some time." He held her belt up to her mouth. "Here, bite this. And if it starts to taste good, spit it out and tell me at once." He forced the leather strip between her teeth as her blood soaked hand curled around it reluctantly. He gently removed her hand from the arrow and wrapped it around the other.

He shifted his weight, and, while giving her a hopefully-reassuring smile, lifted her leg and placed her foot against his shoulder. "I'm getting it above your heart," he said in response to the questioning look she gave him. He looked at her sadly. "Now, I am terribly sorry. This is going to hurt like hell. At least they used a hunting arrow and not a broadhead." He grasped it in his left hand, looking into her eyes. "I'll go when you are ready."

She inhaled loudly and held it for a second, then nodded reluctantly, her eyes closed.

A second's pause, then he pulled it firmly. It had to only been a few seconds, but it felt longer to both people involved. A muffled scream issued from between clenched teeth as she struggled, trying to escape the pain. He wrapped his free arm around her leg tighter, holding it as still as he could. Finally, with a sick sucking sound, the metal point came free, much to his relief. Then more thick red blood welled out.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, tossing the weapon aside and looking at her white face. He reached for some of the cleaner looking rags and stuffed them against her leg. Grabbing her wrist, he forced a shaking hand against them, holding them in place. "I don't think I killed you… yet." He shrugged at her wild-eyed look. "I'm no surgeon. I only did what I could. Now we have to get this to stop bleeding."

He forced her to lay flat while they both applied pressure to the wound. She managed to spit the bite marked belt out of her mouth, making a sour face.

He dug in his pocket with a bloodied hand, then found the paper bag he was looking for. "Jellybaby?"

"Green, please," she gasped.

"Oh, really? My favorite is orange. We should get along swimmingly." He dropped one into her mouth and popped one into his own. Leaving the bag where they both could easily access it, he returned pressure to her leg, which, he noted happily, seemed to be bleeding slightly less.

"So, major crisis diverted… now on to questions."

He held a finger against his lips. "Just relax. Although I am trying to figure out how you arrived here, don't try to talk."

She covered her face with her hand. "Just as well. I don't know how I got here, either."

"Ah." He shifted his weight, trying to get more comfortable. "So a 'rift in the curtain of time' opened up and dropped you several hundred years in the past. Is that it?"

She nodded weakly. "I... I guess so… Is that why you are here, too?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "No, I'm afraid not. I'm a traveler. I got a signal in my ship, and was trying to figure out what it was, when your appearance caused a disturbance in the fabric of space-time."

At that moment a bolt in the door slammed open, the door practically flying off its hinges. Something flew in, tossed from the doorway before it swung shut again. "But wait, couldn't you tell me why we are being held prisoner?" the Doctor yelled in vain, then looked at the bundle itself. "Oh, Alannah, look, I think we are in luck." He gently disentangled himself and walked across the room cautiously. When he opened it he gasped happily at the two pieces of dry bread and some mouldy cheese inside. "Well, indeed! We are definitely fortunate." A second later a skin full of water came flying through, nearly hitting him. Fortunately he caught it before it hit the ground and burst open.

"Jackpot," she said rather tonelessly. He noticed she was on the verge of exhaustion, reclined on the hard ground. He knelt beside her, pouring some water into her thirsty mouth. Leaving the food beside her, he rummaged around purposefully. He placed a sack of grain under her leg carefully, propping it up, then found another for her head, returning his scarf to it's rightful place around his neck. Satisfied with his handiwork, he sat down beside her head, leaning against the wall.

"You've not ate anything." He pointed at their provisions.

"I'm not terribly interested," she responded, voice thick with sleep.

"Aw, come on now. I know it is not great, but it is something. Here, I'll help you." He ripped off a piece of bread and held it to her mouth. "Open wide." She glared at him. "The airplane wants to come in and land!" he burbled, smiling in a possessed way.

"I'm not a ch-" she protested, cut off when he took his first opportunity.

"You need to eat, alright? More than I do. You'll thank me later." She grudgingly consumed what he gave her, and drank more water. When her eyes slid shut, he clapped her face.

"Why won't you just let me sleep?"she pleaded.

"You don't actually want to sleep. That is just the blood loss. Now, stay awake for me, okay?" She grumbled incoherently in response, but managed to fix her eyes on his.

&&&


	3. Clearly, you make no logical sense

**A/N: Another part edited and ready to go. I think it sounds much better than it did on live journal. So, yeah. **

What followed were a few tense hours cursing the lack of at least 20th century medicine. She thought her turn-of-the-century emergency care was good, but he regaled her with stories of what the future humans would be capable in a few thousand years. Eventually things went from been terror-filled and high stress to very nearly boredom.

She watched him as he dug through his pockets purposefully. "What are you looking for?" she finally asked after a half hour of tedious searching.

"Oh, I was looking for this," he held up a slim device that he had pulled out his pocket when he first started.

"Then, forgive me for being dense, but why are you still looking?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, really. I just thought I would keep searching while I waited." He tapped his temple. "Got to keep practiced up."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Great. So you are just going to shift around in your pockets, jingling and crunching things against each other and being generally noisy while we wait for someone to decide what they want to do with us, is that correct?"

"Aw now, don't be so bleak." He began stuffing things back into his pockets. "I'm going to stop at nightfall at the latest."

"At nightfall? Why then?"

He busied himself with checking her bandages once more. "Because," he said loudly, happy with his handiwork finally, and lay down beside her, stretching his protesting legs their full length. "I am going to use this to signal K-9." He held up the slender metal item he dug out of his pocket.

"And what is that, then? A dog whistle?"

"Precisely! When it is dark, I will call for him, he'll track me down, and we'll escape with his help."

She snorted. "What, is he going to dig us out?"

He shot her a startled look. "Don't be preposterous!" he leaned back, staring at the wall in front of them. "He'll use his laser to burn a hole in the wall," he said matter-of-factly.

She closed her eyes tightly, an expression of pain on her face. "I am so confused, Doctor…"

He smiled and patted her head. "Don't worry about it. Just rest now, you'll need your strength when we run for it."

She closed her eyes, brows knitted together. "I thought you didn't want me to sleep."

"Oh, well, you can sleep, if you promise to wake up." She snorted but kept her eyes closed. Within a few minutes the gentle rise and fall of her chest suggested she had given in. He watched her with a critical eye, but when she didn't stop breathing he figured she was probably safe.

A loud sound as the bolts in the door being drawn back woke him suddenly from his own slumber. He hadn't been aware of falling asleep, and in his disorientation he saw a couple of men cross the small space to him. Grabbing him under the arms, they pulled him out of the door.

"Doctor?" Alannah said groggily. "Doctor!" she yelled, voice tinged in panic.

"Call K-9!" he managed to yell back before the door slammed shut and he had a knife pressed to his throat.

"Make another sound and I'll gut you, you pig," a man hissed in his ear. He swallowed and bobbed his head slightly in response. His hands were pulled behind him roughly, and a coarse rope was tied around his wrists before being prodded into movement.

She looked around, feeling addled. "Call K-9? How?" her eyes landed on the silver whistle lying in the dirt, just out of her reach. She crawled over to it on hands on knees, favoring her injured right leg heavily. Flopping gracelessly back down, she winced, then picked up the item and rubbed the dirt off of it. She considered how the Doctor's chapped lips were the last to touch it, berating herself for being childish. When she blew into it she was surprised when it made more noise than she thought a high-pitched dog whistle should. Then she leaned back against a barrel, feeling drained.

He was led to a large wooden building guarded by men with poleaxes. He noticed on the walk that there was a stout looking rock wall around the broad area, where several thatched buildings were standing inside its protective shadow. The massive scale of medieval castles that was expected of post-invasion England was missing, thankfully. This seemed to be just some backwater parish with an old roman wall, with the woods nearby, crowding its crumbling perimeter. Further inspection was cut off by a blow to the back of the head, informing him to duck into the short doorway of the building.

Inside the air was smoky and sour smelling. Dimly lit by torches, he was led to a great room crowded men eating and in various states of sobriety. They all paused and watched the newcomers in silence. A man at the head of the table raised a goblet. "Ah, my guest, you have finally arrived! Guard, bring him down here, he must be seated beside me."

"I can walk myself," he said gruffly to the man who grabbed his shoulder, shrugging him off and sauntering forwards, angry. "My lord Fulbert, I presume." He bowed awkwardly. "I am afraid I cannot pay you enough respect as my hands are currently restrained."

"By the Saints!" Fulbert said loudly, outraged. "Cut that man's wrists loose! Never mind, allow me." He grabbed a knife from his waistband and slashed the ropes. "My apologies, I am afraid things are a bit strange around here, lately."

"I see. I presume that is why I have been imprisoned since I arrived?" he said with mock diffidence as rubbed his wrists.

"I assure you that was a mistake that I am most ashamed of. Please, join me, and I shall explain it all." He swept a hand to the bench at his side. The Doctor sat down slowly, casually glancing at the roasted duck in front of him. Noticing the fleeting glance, Fulbert said warmly, "Please, you must be hungry, eat."

"I do not feel like eating, not when my friend has only bread waiting for her," the Doctor said pointedly.

Fulbert looked at him, confused. "You have a companion..? I am sorry, I am afraid I did not catch your name."

"I'm the Doctor, and yes, she has also been wrongly incarcerated by you, lord."

He pretended to choke on his wine, an act the Doctor saw through. "I am enraged to hear this! I promise this will all be cleared up soon." He clicked his fingers to a man behind him. "Find this woman and get her food. Quickly!" He returned his gaze to the Doctor, who unwillingly started to eat.

"Your generosity knows no bounds, my lord," he said around a mouthful of food.

"Oh, it is nothing, Doctor. The least I could do given the situation."

He swallowed dry and proceeded to ignore the rest of his plate. "You mentioned that things are not as they usually are. What ails your village that you are so suspecting of strangers?"

"It is a distrustful age, my lord. Things are going badly everywhere, and strangers found on the roads are naturally suspected." He flapped his hand dismissively. "It is how things are, Doctor," he said over his glass, then drained it quickly.

"I beg to differ, my lord," the Doctor said hesitantly. "But your village seems to be especially on edge. My guess is from the way that your men have quieted down and how you are avoiding my eye, that I am correct."

Fulbert pursed his lips. "Well, Doctor," he said conspiratorially as he leaned toward his guest. "We do not like to speak openly of these things to outsiders. You do understand, Doctor?"

The Doctor looked around at the men who were carrying on conversations, forced laughter breaking out here and there. "Would you like to go somewhere more private, my lord?" he asked, sensing the man's hesitation.

Fulbert nodded his head, his thinning hair bobbing slightly. "Yes, that would be good. Servants!" he yelled, clapping his hands. "My guest and I are moving to my private rooms. Please set us up there so that we might eat in peace." He turned toward the Doctor. "This way, if you would."

The Doctor followed, tense and waiting for ambush, but curious.


	4. I never liked statistics class, anyway

**A/N:** Chapter the fourth! Herein we have more violence! Yay!

**Of some import...** the lovely Time_Lady at Whofic suggested some changes that I have been quick to implement. If you are rereading this and wonder why it was so different, I hope it leaves you with a sense of it being better. But I flatter myself; let's just get on with the story, shall we?

She leaned against a barrel, eyes sliding shut. As her body slid sideways, she caught herself, sending waves of pain up her body. "Stay awake, Alannah, stay awake!" she mumbled while fingering the whistle in her hand, then blew it again. Still no answer. She felt edgy as she wiped an arm across her sweaty forehead.

The sliding of bolts in the door made her sit up, expecting his broad face to emerge. Her expectation disappeared quickly when an armed man walked in. He held a torch aloft, searching for her in the gloom. As she watched, he pulled a sword out and swung it around, splitting a sack open and kicking a barrel over, making his intention clear.

As he turned his back on her, she coiled her body and weakly sprung on his back, trying to bring him to the ground and make her escape.

&&&

"Nice place you have here," the Doctor observed as he examined the austere room he was led into. "Very... simple. Is it Minimalism?"

Fulbert furrowed his brow in annoyance. "You speak nonsense!"

"Well, yes, I thought that movement was pretty boring, myself…" he spread his hands wide, thinking. "I am much more into post modernism. Pop art is my favorite."

"Do you know what I believe, Doctor?"

He bowed his head, looking up at the man from under his curls. "No, but I wager you are going to tell me."

Fulbert continued, unfased. "I believe the Devil has possessed you." He crossed himself quickly.

"What?" the Doctor hissed, jaw dropping. "I am in complete control of myself, Fulbert. Can you say the same?"

"Indeed, I am in control," he indicated to someone behind the Doctor. Spinning around, he saw a large man who locked the door and strode forward, holding a length of rope in his hands. "I am in control of your future." Fulbert said, drawing his attention back. "Paul and I shall exercise your demons."

"What do you have in mind?" the Doctor said, trying to sound calm as muscular man roughly tied his hands behind his back.

"Given your crime, I believe no risks should be taken, Doctor," Fulbert spat. "Doctor, if that is your real name, after all."

Paul was working behind him. The Doctor tried to keep the big man in his line of sight. "Well, no it isn't, but-" he was cut off by a sharp tug on his arms upward.

Fulbert circled him slowly, eyes fixed on his. "Now, Doctor, what brings you here?"

"Well, I was just passing through-"

"That is a lie," Fulbert said, angry. "Where have you taken them?"

"Who?" his eyes bulged questioningly. Fulbert gave Paul a sharp nod of command. "I honestly don't unders-" he felt his feet leave the ground as he was pulled upwards by his bound wrists. He gasped for a moment, twisting his neck to look up. "A Strappado? Well, a bastardised version, anyway. Wait a minute, you shouldn't have the Strappado, that technique is from middle Europe--" He noticed the puzzled look on his tortures' faces. "I mean," he backpeddled, then screamed "Oh, the pain! Make it stop!"

Fulbert sneered, easily taken in. "Your pain will bring us closer to finding our stolen children. Paul, we must try not to take too much enjoyment from this, not while my son and your daughter are taken from us." He returned his attention to the suspended Doctor. "Now, tell me where they are."

The Doctor gave him a wild eyed look in response. "I- I don't know, honestly. I mean, I DON'T KNOW OH THE PAIN!"

"May God have mercy on your soul," Fulbert said grimly.

&&&

She didn't feel too well, herself. She was aware of pain in her leg but it seemed muted and unimportant. Her head swam and her lungs burned, probably due to the hands pressing down on her windpipe. "Is this the end? I am going to be strangled to death by some man a thousand years before my birth?" She felt a badly-timed tear slide down her face.

Her upper hand in battle had been lost quickly, given that he was much bigger than she, and the element of surprise is only as effective as the rest of the plan. He had quickly turned the tables, and she went from pounding his broad shoulders with fists to being pinned to the ground and dying. She dimly registered that he was muttering under his breath, "This is for my son, for leaving his body for the animals to destroy! My only son, taken from me, James will be revenged!"

"Hey, I didn't do anything," she thought foggily as she summoned the strength to knee him with her uninjured leg. It wasn't quite as effective as she imagined, catching him in the stomach, but he nonetheless toppled over sideways, unconscious.

She felt grateful of the flood of air into her lungs. After a few moments, she lifted her head, looking at the man who was sprawled on the floor beside her. "I did that?" she asked herself, puzzled by her unknown strength.

"Negative, mistress, I did," a metallic voice behind her spoke, making her yelp in fright and twist around. A medium-sized metal dog stood in front of her, decidedly retro in look, but oddly adorable.

"K—K-9?" she asked, finally finding her voice.

"Affirmative. You called for me?"

She gaped. "Uhm… I guess I did, yeah… you were not what I was expecting to answer, though…" she looked at the far wall, where a smouldering hole in the wall showed the night outside. "You, uh, burned a hole in the wall with your …laser?"

"Affirmative," his head bobbed ever so slightly as he extended the laser in his nose for her to inspect.

She eyed it cautiously. "And uh, you used it on him, too?"

"I knocked him unconscious. He was threatening your life."

She rubbed her hand across her throat. "Yes, I guess you could say that."

He extended an antenna towards her face. "Mistress is running a fever, probably due to a bacterial infection. Medical assistance would be advised."

She held the back of her hand to her forehead. "I am a little warm, aren't I?"

"38.2 degrees Celsius, to be precise," he said matter-of-factly.

She thought for a second. "Uhm…"

"100.8 degrees Fahrenheit."

"Oh, right," she carefully avoided looking at the dog. "I knew that."

"Blood pressure is also elevated, due to low blood volume in the body. Medical assistance would be advised."

She scowled. "I know, you just said that."

His ears moved as he computed. "Without immediate medical assistance, the chance of survival is 64.5%."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Well, at the community college I attended for a brief time, 64% was still passing." She grabbed the guard's sword and levered herself to her feet, leaning against the wall heavily.

His servomotors ground into life again. "63.7%."

"K-9? Could you do me a favor and shut up?"

"Affirmative, mistress."

She forced herself to stand unaided. "Now, can you find the Doctor? Some men grabbed him earlier, and I am worried. "

"Affirmative, I have his biomarker located. He is approximately 45 meters away." She gave him a blank look. "Would Mistress like for me to automatically adjust measurements into Imperial units?" he seemed to sigh as he spoke.

She too sighed, relieved. "Yes, please."

"Master is 49.21 yards from our current position."

She pointed at the hole in the wall. "Well, let's go and find him, shall we?"


	5. Part Five, or 'The Newlywed Pose'

**Author's Note: **If you are reading this and incredibly confused, I suggest that you reread the last chapter. I edited it the day before I published this chapter, and it might have changed since you read it. Also: I like turtles.

At some point the two interrogators realised that his shoulders were not actually going to dislocate. The Doctor smiled privately as they stood on the ground, Fulbert holding the end of the rope as Paul worked, tying a weight to his feet. "That should do it, my lord," Paul growled as he pulled the knot tight.

"Good. I don't know what foul beast of Satan he is, but we shall break him, you wait and see." Fulbert turned to the patiently waiting Doctor. "Do you hear me? I give the word and- how many did you put in that bag, Paul? Twenty?- and Paul releases twenty horseshoes, which are tied to your legs. You can save yourself some pain and misery and tell me where the children are. Or if that is not enough, I will add more; I have many horses. What do you say?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Come on, misery? I've had worse torture on my own planet."

"So you do admit to being an agent of the Adversary!" the pious nobleman yelled.

He looked down at the man and smiled. "No, not really." He tensed himself for the drop.

&&&

"K-9, where is he?" she asked, leaning against a wall, keeping to the shadows.

"Master is in the large building to your left."

She looked around the corner quickly. "What? Where inside? It is huge!"

"Master is 65.61 feet away from our present location."

"So he is probably in the back, then?" She knitted her eyebrows together in concern. "Can you tell what he is doing, by any chance?"

Whirring. "It appears by his elevated hearts rate that he is in distress of some kind. Suggest that we mount a rescue operation and attempt to attain him, mistress."

She rolled her eyes. "What did you think I was going to do, join them for a game of darts?"

"That does not seem logical, since the game 'darts' has not been invented by this point in human history."

"Shut up, K-9."

"Affirmative, Mistress."

"And I'm not your mistress."

"Affirmative."

She sagged against the wall, gathering her strength, then hurried around the corner, making her way to the building. The pair made their way around the hall, one rolling along, the other in a shambling bent-forward run and using a sword for support. Eventually, they crouched under a window, peering inside.

"He is right by us?"

"Affirmative, approximately 7 feet away."

"He must be on the other side of that wall, then." She felt an antenna pressing against her hand.

"Temperature is above 101 degrees Fahrenheit. Estimated survival now 32%."

"What?!" snapped the alarmed human. "Why did it drop off so steeply?"

"Because you intend to engage the enemy in combat." He whirred as his ears moved. "Revised, survival is now 25%."

She glared at the dog. "What makes you think that?"

"Earlier I did not take weather conditions into consideration."

"The weather?" She scoffed. "What does it have to do with anything?"

"A storm is about to break overhead. It will rain for several hours, soaking the ground. Given that we do successfully retrieve the master, the TARDIS is 4.67 miles away through dense virgin forest."

She nodded her head. "So you think that if I don't get my ass kicked, and I by some miracle can walk, that I will in the end catch pneumonia?"

"You could also be attacked by a wild animal in the woods, or possibly struck by a meteorite, or-"

"Shut up, K-9! Just once!"

"Affirmative."

She shook her head, not able to help pressing her hand against her forehead once more. "Alright, K-9, can you blast a hole in the wall?" In answer, a hole suddenly appeared, showering her in plaster and splinters. "Not yet!" A man charged out, howling, slightly disorientated and very angry. He spotted her, crouching on the ground. K-9 hit him with the laser, sending him to the dirt, unconscious. A couple more men came from around the corner, and he struck before she was even able to register.

"I suggest you find master." K-9 said as he blasted another man who appeared out of nowhere.

She nodded her agreement, then stumbled forward, ducking into the hole in the side of the wall. A well-dressed man stood inside, obviously very important. "Who are you?" he asked, shaken but indignant.

"I'm Alannah, and I believe that man at your feet belongs to me." She pointed her sword at the Doctor, who laid crumpled on the ground. She swayed suddenly, and quickly thrust the sword into the ground, using it for support and trying to look condescending as well.

"What makes you think I will give him to you?" the man said as he advanced toward her. His eyes flicked down to her leg. "You must be the thief my men found earlier in the evening. Of course you are working with this beast. No matter, I shall teach you a lesson as well." He started to swing his arm back to strike her, when a voice spoke behind him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the Doctor hissed threateningly from the floor, then knocked his feet from under him, knocking him to the floor. His head hit the floor with a sick _thunk._ Clearly he would be no more worry tonight.

"How did you do that?" she asked, awed as she watched him struggle against his bindings.

"Practice. Help me, would you?." He rolled over and sawed the bindings on his wrists on her sword. "But never mind that, how are you walking around? When I left you were barely conscious." With a flourish he swept his arms forward, grimacing as he untied the weight on his legs. Deftly, he rose to his feet, grabbed his hat, and dusted himself off.

She smiled as they ducked through the gap. "Let's say its all thanks to a certain dog we both know."

"K-9!" he exclaimed gladly, looking at his companion. "I am ever so glad to see you." someone yelled in the distance. "Reunions later. Quick, cover us." He gripped her hand tightly. "We are going to go for a little jog through the woods, is that alright?" he broke into a fast trot, holding her close to his side.

The sound of arrows flying by made her gasp, but all hissed through the grass, missing the fleeing trio. All were thankful for the cover of darkness as they crossed the wide area and entered the woods, running.

They continued for a mile, until the sounds of pursuit slacked off. She stumbled, almost falling headlong to the ground, but he managed to catch her and help her to the earth softly. "It's raining," he said, looking up at the leafy canopy over their head.

"20%." K-9 simply reported.

The Doctor looked at his dog. "What was that?"

She groaned. "He is estimating my chances of living out the night, is all. Bloody liar." He grabbed her face in his hands. "What are you doing?" she asked, confused.

"You are burning up. We have to get you to the TARDIS." He grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder. "And I see you are bleeding again. I really must hurry." She accepted gratefully.

The rest of their exodus went by as a blur. Later she would remember little about it, except for an instance when their hunters caught up to them. Laser blasts from K-9 lit the night, distracting the men, allowing them to escape. At some point he set her down on the ground, resting against a tree.

"How are you feeling?" he asked cheerfully.

"I don't know…" slurred Alannah.

"Hang in there, we are nearly back."

She felt him pick her up gently and carry her in his arms "Am I supposed to hurt this much?" She saw her field of vision going dark around the edges. "Oh, Doctor… I'm…" her head lulled backwards as she fainted.


End file.
